2018.04.12: Prelude Warlords
|A Hint of Trouble|
|IC Date||April 12, 2018|
|Players||Lawrence, Doug, Patrick Harrison, Camille Zantosa, Samara|
|Location||Pilot Station / Tumbleweed Bar|
|Spheres||Vampire Sabbat Anarch|
Tumbleweed Cafe and Bar
The few windows here are covered with blackout curtains. The place is lit only with neon lights from beer signs, some recessed lighting behind the bar and under the counters, and flat screen tvs that play whatever the bartender chooses to put on near the bar, and other screens in corners around the room. The floors are hardwood, and obviously well worn.
The bar itself is the most prominent structure in the room. It is made of dark wood, and looks old. Scratches go across the top in some places, but those have been left and resealed with Polyurethane to give it character. There is plenty of choices of beer on tap, as well as full stock of liquor, and a variety of non-alcoholic drinks. Cushioned bar stools sit around the bar, as well as a golden metal rail some inches above the floor for shoes.
The opposite wall from the bar is a series of booths to sit at. All very generic looking, with cushioned vinyl seats that match the bar stools, and similar dark wood tables. A few scattered tables and chairs are in the middle of the room. All the tables have small 5" x 7" menus laminated and sitting with a napkin dispenser, and salt and pepper shaker.
Camille stands behind the bar, pouring a drink for a patron.
Lawrence lumbers his big butt in, smelling of engine oil and gasoline, wiping his hands off on a rag that used to be someone's shirt.
Camille looks up to see Lawrence and her full lips curve into a smile. "Good evening Lawrence..can I get you anything.."
Patrick comes out of the backroom of the Tattoo Shop, wiping a bit of ink off of his hands on a rag. "Evening," he tells the two, moving behind the bar to perch himself on his tall stool.
Lawrence drops his big butt in a seat across from her. "Promises promises. Ah'm sure ya /can/, an maybe ah'll take ya up on dat." as he gives Pat a half ass salute.
Suddenly a patron at the end of the bar starts coughing. The receiver of the drink she just made. It was extra strong and she did it on purpose. She winks to Lawrence as he sits. When Patrick walks in she glances back and nods "Evenin Patrick...the usual?"
Patrick makes a huffing noise at Lawrence, but gives him a bit of that non-pissed looking Rottie smile. He turns his head, and to Camille. "Yeah, the jar on the far right front."
The rumblings of several large motorcycles can be heard from outside. They sound like they parked in front of the truck stop, or perhaps the tattoo shop. The engines rev in unison before they go off at almost the same time. Raucous, male laughter can be heard.
Lawrence gives the guy at the bar a grin, and a solid smack on the back as he walks past to check the crazies in the parking lot.
Camille listens to the revving engines as she walks to the mason jars and pulls the one he wants. She opens it and sets it next to Patrick. She shifts her eyes to the entrance
Patrick gives a nod to Camille, glances to the choking man with indifference as his eyes move to Lawrence, "Doesn't sound like Brea. Think that's Lee back?"
Lawrence opens the door to check. "Yeah, if it was Brea, there'd be catcalls, mah'be some screamin dependin' on 'er mood."
Loud voices then from the parking lot, and as Lawrence opens the door a male voice can be heard clearly, yelling out, "Hey, chica! Leave the old man, and the brat! Come take a ride with us, I wouldn't mind giving YOU. a ride!" More loud, crude laughter, and whistles.
Lawrence reconsiders .. 'Well, dere are da catcalls."
Camille goes to wipe the counter and listens to Lawrence and the commotion outside
Patrick raises up, popping the lid on his Mason jar. "Is it her then? Is she with Lee? Did they come back?" His voice sounds perhaps eager, and anxious at the same time.
Outside are three loud, rough looking white men, all either bald or have shaven their heads. They all wear similar jackets, though some have more patches than others. Emblazoned on the back of them is the word 'X WARLORDS' with Viking like horns over the letters. Their blue jeans are dirty with desert sand, and either they are drunk or simply obnoxious. An average looking couple, probably middle class, and a little boy are attempting to get into their economy car at the gas pumps. One of the bikers is standing in the way of the passenger door. The woman pushes the little boy behind her.
Lawrence leans against the door frame, taking up most of it, watching the guys have their fun. "Yeah, well, fuck. S'pose if dis keeps up, might have fuzz on dah doorstep in a few."
Camille sighs softly. She glances to Lawrence and Patrick "The last thing we need is the fuzz here...."
Patrick grunts out, "Lawrence, go see if you can defuse whatever the hell is going on out there."
Lawrence smirks just a bit at that. "Nah, boys wanna have fun. Dey'd jus wanna fight me, get rowdier. Nice bikes doh. Babe, said you wanted ta get me somethin? Give da boys a whistle, bring 'em in."
Lawrence steps inside the door to let her do her thing.
The woman's high pitched voice can be heard pleading, "Just leave us alone, please, we need to get to the city." The man states, "If you don't go away, I'll calling 911". The little boy starts to cry. One of the loud men calls out, "Leon, just knock the fucker out 'n have done with it!"
Another vehicle pulls up to the gas tanks, an old beat up truck. The man inside it takes one look at the situation, and then pulls out of the lot.
Camille steps from behind the bar and walks past Lawrence and walks outside. She glances to the bikers then to the crying boy. something flickering in her eyes . She looks to the shitheads and whistles "Now boys...leave the town folk alone.." She starts out mild Lawrence snickers a bit as she gets started, out of the way of the door where he won't be seen.
Patrick frowns, "Lawrence, back her up, man." He stands, and starts to move out from behind the bar. Noticing where Lawrence is, he pauses then.
Lawrence waves him off. "She got dis' Pat" he says quietly. "Just be ready ta do our t'ing after dey get settled."
All three of the bikers look over at Camille. One whistles, "Hey, chica! Wanna ride?" He grabs at his crotch, and laughs. Another asks, "Is this the old Biker bar? Don't remember a tattoo shop.." The one identified as Leon goes back to tormenting the woman, making faces ar the little boy, and scaring the woman further, and the man has his cell phone out now.
Lawrence steps out of the building then and heading toward the tanks, between the family and the bikers, just to give the inclination that the easy way is toward the bar.
Camille glares at the asshole but soon turns on her charm. The idea was to get them inside. She juts her chest out slightly. "Cmon guys, come in and check out the bar. First round is on me..."
Patrick frowns further, "Not sure about this, too public, Carys will probably bitch." He doesn't sound like he really cares though, and has moved back behind the bar again.
Leon grins at Camille, taking his attention away from the woman. She grabs the little boy, and goes for the passenger door. The man tosses a wallet over toward Leon, and they both attempt to get into the car. Meanwhile, the sales clerk from the store has come to the door to see what the problem is. He's a skinny looking teenager, and seems to want to stay out of it. The trio from the bar would know he is a mundane worker, for the most part. If he sees anything easy enough for Doug to handle it. The other two bikers look at Camille, and the one that had spoken to her smirks, "That's a bar? Why ain't there any sign for it then?"
Lawrence picks up the wallet and tosses it back, giving the man a nod to get in the car and go. Figures he won't worry about the cops and paperwork if nothing is lost. "Private club, invite only. Da lady likes you, you get da invite."
Patrick takes a drink from his Mason jar, and then moves over quietly to double check the locks on the doors to the truck stop, and the tattoo shop.
"Hey, man!" Leon yells at Lawrence, "What d'ya have to go and do that for?" The family manages to get into their car, and drive away. "Who the fuck are you to interfere man?" The one that has been talking rakes his eyes over Camille, then looks over to Lawrence, "Free drinks? Why not. Come on, Eddie, let's check it out. Private usually means strippers 'n shit. We like this place enough we'll tell Mel to get it. Make a nice clubhouse."
Camille glances to the bikers, especially the one who was picking on the little boy
Lawrence gives the biker a smirk as he heads back into the Tumbleweed. "'Cause a county jus' filled up 5 minutes ago. Doubt eithah yer boss 'er mine wan's yer shit all over da hood of a black 'n white."
Patrick comes up then behind Lawrence, staying at the door for a moment before he disappears back inside, heading to the bar. Obviously he expects no trouble getting the men into the bar.
Leon sticks his middle finger in the air at the car that is now raising dust as it heads off into town at a high speed. He twirls then, laughing as if a bit insane. "I want something to eat.." He heads into the truck stop. The teenage cashier scurries away from the doorway.
The one still sitting on his bike referred to as Eddie just shrugs, "I don't know, man, if the cops are nearby Mel'll get pissed. We suppose to lay low right now." The third man looks to Camille and Lawrence and grins, "Well, fuck you guys then, I wanna drink." And he heads toward the door, trying to slide his arm around Camille.
Camille cringes lightly as the one tries to put an arm around her but for the moment she lets him . She glances to Lawrence and pulls Leon towards the bar "This way...."
Lawrence lumbers his way back inside and waits to see who's coming in and who ain't.
Camille stops and glances to Leon who went into the truck stop and then to the 3rd. "Well there is no free alcohol in there.." She chuckles and leads #3 into the bar. She then ducks into the truck stop
Lawrence waits to see if the third makes a choice, door number 1, door number 2, or on the road.
Patrick grins as he watches Lawrence come in with a... customer. "What will you have?" He asks the man.
"Hey, chica!" The man calls out as Camille tries to head off, his arm tightening around her waist, jerking her close to him. He smells of oil, dust, old dirt and whiskey. "Leon can haves seconds, where's that drink you promised?" He hears Patrick, and says, "JD, straight." Eddie gets off his bike, but doesn't move toward the bar. Instead he starts going through the saddle bag packs on his Harley.
Lawrence finds Camille's discomfort.... amusing, but stays by the door a moment, waiting for the last guy to make up his mind. He doesn't figure they'll try to roll the place while they're split up and getting comfy, but he might do something crazy.
Camille leads him to the bar and makes sure he finds that seat "Now don't you go anywhere hmm?" She starts for the truckstop
Patrick pours the biker the Jack Daniels. That is easy enough. His Mason jar seems to have disappeared off the bar counter.
Inside the truck stop Camille will find Leon is busy. Busy eating his way through a large bag of potato chips, and cussing at the cashier. The boy is cowering behind the counter, and seems happy to see her walk in. "I eh... tried to tell him he had to pay for that before he..." His words are cut off as Leon picks up a can of soda and chunks it at him. "Shut the fuck up! She invited me! I'm gonna fuck your face up if you say another fuckin' word!"
Lawrence leans against the door jam a moment, wondering if the third guy ever will make a choice on where he's going.
Camille sighs lightly but turns on the charm once more. She walks over to Leon "There's no free alcohol in here...." She reaches over and drags a nail over his chin and down his neck "But ...if you join me....I'll show you where to get it..."
Pilot Travel Center
This unpaved lot is just dirt and dust. The ground is dry and packed down, and has been made fairly smooth, with a few divets here and there. Fuel Pumps are available for both trucks and cars. Space is provided behind the building for semi trucks to park while the drivers catch some Zzzz's, or hit the restaurant for some grub. There is parking in front, and to the side of the Tumbleweed Cafe and Bar for weary travellers, motorcycles, and whomever wants to stop by to partake. Tumbleweeds blow through from time to time, and when the wind gets going, it can get dusty out here. Some of the ground even is cracked from the dryness and heat.
Currently, after hearing loud Harley's come up and rev their engines before shutting down, and loud laughter, then yelling - those in the Tattoo Parlor would no doubt hear a commotion going on in the Truck Stop itself. A biker is in there currently yelling at the teenaged looking boy cowering behind the counter, and just chunked a soda can at him, threatening him if he said anything else. Outside another one is by his bike, going through the saddle bags. The third can't be seen, or really heard at the moment. They are wearing jeans, white t-shirts which are filthy with grime, dust and sand, and they are wearing leather jackets with a patch that says 'X Warlords' with Viking looking horns over the letters.
Patrick is in the bar, Lawrence is at the doorway to the Truck Stop, and Camille is inside the Truck Stop.
Lawrence is watching the guy go through his bags, wondering if he's digging for a piece, or for cash, or for a smoke. Or hell, a golden monkey. But until the guy makes up his mind, it puts a limit on his options, and he might have to rethink his 'plan'.
Camille keeps her eyes on Leon..."So yes....no?" She was kind of getting impatient but she kept her cool...
Leon dumps the bag of potato chips he was eating out of onto the floor, wiping greasy fingers off on his t-shirt. "You got suckass employees here. You invite me in, and he wants fucking cash." Grabs another soda can, tossing it at the counter. The teenager is currently crouched behind it. "Suckass!"
Well, now. Doug picked an interesting time to show up, didn't he? He stays off to one side for now, taking a moment to size up these new arrivals before getting involved. They might be all talk and no punch, after all.
Was this a bad time? Was this a really bad time? What exactly is going on here. You know other than bikers being bikers. I suppose you sort of got used to that after a while. Somewhere despite all of this, Samara has shown up, rolling into the parking lot near the door to the tattoo parlor on ... a skateboard. Well technically it is a longboard, and she maneuvers it well enough, not seeming to notice the immediate danger. One earbud plugged into her left ear, the other dangling over the white tank top she was wearing. Black shorts, white tennis shoes. High socks. And a possible death wish.
Outside Samara has drawn Eddie's attention, and he lets out a low but deep wolf whistle. "Hey, baby, you wanna /ride/?" He laughs his tone suggestive and crude. His hands remain in the saddle bags. Inside the Truck Stop Leon stares back at Camille, "Where's the party?" His eyes seem to slide over to take in Lawrence, and Doug, and he gets a calculated look on his face. His last words don't seem as slurred as before.
Oh christ on a wooden crutch his antics were starting to annoy her.....of course that was in her mind...on the outside the flirtatious smile never left her full lips. She hooks her arm in his and starts to lead him to the parking lot She leans into whisper. "Well the party.."
Doug gives Leon another once-over, but eh, seems like Camille's got that one well in hand. Maybe she really does want him in her panties, or maybe she's hiding pepper spray. Eddie, on the other hand? He locks eyes and gets right to the point. "/Go away/."
Samara pauses, her eyes blinking once. She looks to Eddie. Then she looks to the bike. Point in fact she looks at the bike like it is the horrible high speed death trap it is. She looks back to Eddie, and shakes her head. "Ummm, errr... no thanks. I ummm...took....errr my board here....anyways." She lowers her head to her board as if maybe the guy had not seen it, kicking it up into her hands to sort of show it, like a shield for her to hide behind.
Eddie takes his hand off the shotgun in the saddlebags, and simply gets up onto his bike, although his face has a bemused expression on it as he starts up the Harley and zooms out of the parking lot, leaving Doug and Samara alone in the parking lot.
Inside Leon smirks at Camille as Lawrence takes off through the door, and pulls a gun from behind his back that was tucked down into his jeans, bringing it around toward Camille. A quick motion from him as he seems to recognize the sound of a bike starting.
Lawrence goes into the bar to find the third man holding a gun on a very bored looking Patrick.
Lawrence socks the one in the bar in the mouth. Lawrence isn't the brightest bulb.
That was well... that dude was kind of creepy. But then again, most are. Bad memories. A life before. She relaxes a little as her drives off. Her board gets tucked under an arm, and then kind of scoots into the Tattoo parlor, raising a hand to give a small wave. (Samara)
One down, two to go. Doug turns and heads for the door, spotting Samara along the way and-- nah, he'll have to catch up with her later. Again he doesn't speak right away, instead just waving a hand to make sure Patrick spots him.
Camille suddenly sees Leon pull the gun out. Well shit....She stops quickly and spreads her hands out to show him she wasn't armed. Yet her lips were not longer smiling....
Leon notices Eddie has taken off, and at the same time notices Doug coming in and seems to start getting panicky. He turns to wave the gun between the two but mainly in Camille's direction. "Make another step, dude, and I blow this bitch's face off!"
The biker in the bar manages to see something a bit in the corner of his eye, maybe a shadow and as he turns slightly to check it out he is met with the sledgehammer of Lawrence's fist. He staggers, the gun goes off but the bullet is wild, and hits the ceiling.
So Samara is safely inside the tattoo shop, Doug is about to try to dominate the panicky Leon, while Camille has her hands up. Lawrence just caused the last unidentified biker to see stars and stagger. Pose as usual, no need for inits this round. Doug roll please for your Dom.
Doug does stay where he is, one hand on the doorframe, but he's not just going to let Leon bully his way around. That's /their/ job. "Put the gun down," he says, "and maybe we'll be nice and forget what you look like."
Oh hey, Tattoo parlor. Nothing real strange going on. Just a loud noise, likely half drowned by the sounds of a truck stop. Samara does her normal thing of just sort of poking around a bit, seeing if they were even open.
Leon's voice is creeping toward full panic, but he waves the gun at both Camille and Doug. "You... you get over there with her, man... move it!" He starts trying to edge towards the door. "I'll fuck you up if you try to stop me!"
Lawrence sledgehammer's away, at least until he can put a bite on the guy. Beating people up is hungry work. Or hungry play. Or maybe Lawrence is just always hungry. Ah, who cares. He might take a bullet. Might have to replace some glass. Or even one of Patrick's jars after a stray shot. But soup's on.
Patrick looks bored as Lawrence helps himself first. "You have no manners, I was the one with the gun in my face, asshole."
Camille looks between the boys who are arguing slightly. She looks back to Leon....she can't fight for shit...dance yes....fight no....
"Yeah, well, you knew that when you hired him." As he banters with Patrick, Doug does as Leon says - for now - frowning a little as the guy decides to stick around longer. "What /are/ you here for, really?"
"FLOYD!? I'm LEAVING!" Leon yells out as he suddenly starts backing up to the door. He yells at Doug and Camille. "You just stay put. You gonna regret this shit, you wait'll Mel hears this!"
Lawrence drops Floyd only after he's had his fill, which is light enough Floyd is still breathing before leaving him for Patrick and making his way into the truckstop to back up Doug with Leon.
Doug shakes his head. "Oh no you don't. Put the gun down, hold still, and tell us about this Mel person." Oh, hi, Lawrence!
Leon freezes in place, the gun dropping from his hand to fall to the floor. "Mel... Me's our leader. He's cool. This useta be his place back before he got sent away." He says in a robotic sounding voice.
Camille stands there, noticing his change in voice...the threatening manner gone....now almost monotone. She reaches for the gun and takes ahold of it...backing away...
A whinny voice calls out from behind the counter, "Can I go home now, please?" The cashier who nearly pissed himself peeks over the edge of the counter.
Lawrence wiggles his hands in a 'shoo' gesture to the clerk. "Put da 'pay at pump only' sign up on da way out."
Patrick shows up at the doorway, glancing around the room as he licks his lips, having taken seconds after Lawrence. He didn't take much either, as he had been drinking from a jar when all this crap started. He just watches quietly for the moment.
Doug spots Camille grabbing the gun and gives her a thumbs up, before returning his attention to Leon. "There, now. See how easy that was? Now you just tell Mel to come say hi, I'm sure we can work something out. I'll even be nice and pretend you didn't just try to pop a cap in my friend's ass."
Leon bobs his head to Doug, "Easy," he repeats, then literally turns on his heel, "Tell Mell 'Hi'", and goes out the doorway, heading for his bike. He is almost bowled over though by the teenager who darts out, slamming the sign on the pumps before he takes off running down the road towards home.
Camille looks up when Doug gives her the thumbs up and she nods in return She holds onto the firearm for now, pointed to the ground. She shifts her gaze to Lawrence and Patrick. "The other one still alive in there?"
And if not stopped Leon will get on the bike, and drive off, not toward Prospect, but on the road towards El Cajon. Floyd is unconscious on the bar floor, and the cashier is long gone.
Lawrence gives a shrug at the question. "For da moment. Ah'll grab 'is jacket and have Pat gimme his hair and ah'll ride off so's anyone might see he's gone."
Patrick nods to Camille, then hears Lawrence. "Doug if you want some, get it. Whatever's left I'll store. Always good to have a little more on hand."
Doug nods to Lawrence and Patrick. "Works for me. No one who'll be missed, right?" They already have /two/ messenger boys pointed in this Mel's direction, after all. "And the counter boy... might want to consider bringing him into the fold before he has a chance to say something stupid."
Camille glances to Doug then back to the others..."Where do you put the body when you're done....anything you can steal off of him?"
Patrick nods at Doug, "Yeah, if one of you wants him. Otherwise do your forget magick on him. He didn't see anything anyway." Glances at Camille, "Did he?"
Meanwhile in the tattoo parlor. Well, noone she needed to see is there. That is well, disappointing. She really did need to get things looked at now that she was all healed up. Samara would of course, drift back out to the parking lot, setting down her board and getting ready to go go go.